


is it me that you see when you fall asleep?

by Pallet_and_Cerulean



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime 2019)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 18:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pallet_and_Cerulean/pseuds/Pallet_and_Cerulean
Summary: “I-“ Kyo started, a little shakily, before he cut himself off, pressed a fist to his chest and curled the other in the thin blanket on his bed. He swallowed, clenched his jaw, then tried again. “It was a nightmare,” he admitted, the words coming forced and raspy, raking a hand back through his hair. “About you,” he added in a hoarse whisper.





	is it me that you see when you fall asleep?

It was too early in the morning when Tohru heard it. It was the kind of early where it isn’t even really morning, but you can’t call it night either since midnight is hours behind you. The kind where sun seems like a distant memory and the moon and stars are so bright against the staunch black sky that they make their own kind of twilight without the need for any dusk or dawn creeping in. The kind that reminds you that the world is so much emptier when you’re the only one awake. Too empty. 

Only, straining to hear through the heavy silence nearly blocking out the noise, Tohru realized she wasn’t the only one awake. It took her a few moments to piece together that a soft noise from down the hall had woken her, and another few to sort out what that noise actually was. And when she finally did, worry knotted in her chest, hurt squeezing her heart tight. She recognized those sounds, knew them by heart far more easily than she would have liked to admit. 

Someone was crying, and from the lurching, stilted sound of it, they were trying their very hardest to hide it. 

Concern rattling around in her chest with every beat of her heart, Tohru sat up. Gingerly, she slipped out of bed and stood, keeping quiet. After all she didn’t want to wake anyone else. Short, cautious steps carried her across the room and she slid the door open with the upmost care. It rattled in its frame just slightly, though it sounded far too loud in her ears, breaking the calm quiet. When everything seemed clear, that she hadn’t alerted anyone, Tohru tiptoed down the hall. Following her ears all the way, heading the direction the sorry whimpers and strained breaths were coming from, she came to a stop at the door at the end of the hall. Kyo’s room. 

A few bubbles of nervousness rose up in Tohru’s chest. But the concern lodged deep in her heart was much stronger. So she steeled herself and brought a hand up to gently knock against the doorframe, knuckles hardly brushing the surface. But the tiny, dull thud of a sound was enough to catch Kyo’s attention. Or at least, it was if the way all the noise from the other side of the door completely stopped was any indication. And Tohru wasn’t sure how long that stretched on. Her listening for something that wasn’t there anymore, standing in the middle of the hall in her pajamas in the small, dreary hours of the morning. Kyo refusing to take so much as an audible breath to let her know he was still there. For all she knew, he could have climbed out the window the second he heard her knock. 

But he hadn’t, and Tohru was sure if it, so she knocked one more time. And when he didn’t answer, she knitted her fingers together and shuffled just a little closer. “Kyo, it’s Tohru,” she whispered, as quiet and ginger as she could manage. That drew an immediate reaction. 

Tohru could hear the rustle of blankets then the dull patter of footsteps before the door quickly slid open. And on the other side, Kyo was gazing down at her, all glassy, puffy eyes and messy hair. Something in his expression was wrought with desperation, and he hurriedly looked her up and down, hands clenching tight on the doorframe until his knuckles went white. Every muscle was drawn tight and he looked almost panicky. And though he wasn’t crying anymore, his breath was still coming shallow and lurching. Tohru could hear it, falling past his lips more ragged than it should have, and she could see it in the hurried rise and fall of his chest too. 

Then, Kyo unclenched one trembling hand from the doorframe, reaching out slowly and deliberately. All the while, fear and dread pooled in his eyes, glimmering in the dark. And when his fingers finally brushed against the fabric over her shoulder, trailing down to touch the skin at her collar bone, something between relief and exhaustion seemed to hit him all at once. And Tohru’s heart ached in her chest at just how tentative he was, like he was horrified if he reached out, she might disappear like a ghost from beneath his hand. Or worse, that he would break her, that she would shatter to pieces. 

For a moment, the warmth of his fingertips lingered against her collarbone, and with every beat, some of the fear that darkened his eyes, drew heavy shadows across his face, ebbed away. Unsure of what to do, but knowing whole heartedly that she wanted to make Kyo feel better, Tohru just him let be for a moment, watching attentively while the warm colors in his eyes swirled with emotions she couldn’t recognize. Then, she gingerly took his wrist in her hand, pulling him back slightly. All of a sudden, Kyo jerked back like he was afraid he had burned her, gaze downcast. 

Red tinged Kyo’s cheeks, crawling up over the bridge of his nose too, but Tohru only caught a flash of it before he sharply turned his attention to the ground. Sleep mused locks of hair fell to cover most of his face from view, engulfing the rest in shadow. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ he started, curling the hand that he had touched her with into a tight fist. The guilt and shame in his voice were almost overwhelming, and Tohru briefly wondered how one sweet person could feel so badly about themself. 

“Shh,” Tohru hushed gently, interrupting his apology. 

Seeing he had clearly misunderstood her intentions, Tohru stepped forward to take his wrist in both hands. And this time, he let her, gaze picking up off the floor. Instead of pushing him away like he thought she was trying to do, Tohru pressed his palm flat against her chest, right above her heart. She could feel it beating steadily beneath his hand, if not a bit fast, and from the way he met her gaze, red rimmed eyes hopeful and relived all at once, she knew he felt it too. And despite the hurt she felt for him, pulsing somewhere deep inside, Tohru brought the brightest smile she could onto her face. And she found, with Kyo looking back at her with so much genuine care, that she didn’t even have to force it. 

“See, I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere,” Tohru assured. 

Kyo looked at her like she was sunshine after the rain, like he thought she was a light he may never see again. And even if she didn’t think she deserved that kind of praise, Tohru was glad he looked a little more assured and that the lingering panic and guilt had left his eyes. Then, he gave a brusque nod, some of the blush from before lingering in a dusting of pink across his nose. 

Eventually, Kyo let his hand fall back to his side. And to Tohru’s surprise, she found she missed the warmth of him there, right over her heart. It felt safe, somehow, and more comfortable than she would have thought. But she didn’t say anything about it. It seemed better to hold back, let Kyo take his time, give him the chance to invite her in close or push her away. As long as he knew she was there for him. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Kyo finally said, somewhere between ashamed and exhausted and lost. Though, Tohru couldn’t tell if it was from a place of guilt at having distrusted her sleep, or if it was merely that he didn’t want anyone to hear him crying. Probably some of both, if she knew Kyo like she thought she did. 

Not having the heart to tell him he did, in fact, wake her up, Tohru just smiled a little. Though, it felt a little sadder than before, like she couldn’t muster the same light. “It’s alright, I was already awake anyway,” Tohru replied, even if it wasn’t quite the truth. But it was close enough to it, and it was something she could say without that ache in her chest that swelled up whenever she hurt someone else. 

Though, it still seemed safer to shift to another topic. “Was it a bad dream?” Tohru asked gingerly, knitting her fingers together and hoping that she wasn’t prying too much. 

For a moment, Kyo just sighed, but the exhale sounded forced and strained, like he choked a little on the breath when it came out. It tore at Tohru’s heart and she wanted desperately to take his hands in hers and hold them tight, to wrap him in a hug, to whisper soothing reassurances. But she held herself still and watched with watery eyes as Kyo skirted his gaze past her, glancing warily down the hall. 

Stepping back from the door, making space, Kyo gave a sharp tilt of his head, inviting Tohru inside. For just a split second, something in her chest felt jittery with nerves. But it was gone as quick as it came and Tohru stepped inside, every footfall sounding too loud in the silence. Kyo slid the door shut behind her. Somehow, though they’d been standing closer in the hall, being in Kyo’s room felt more intimate. Even though he had invited her in, and his room was simple and sparse and held nothing even resembling treasured memories or personal sentiments, Tohru felt a little like she was intruding. An apology lingered on the back of her tongue, but Kyo didn’t look like he wanted to hear her polite formalities right then, so she kept it too herself. 

“I-“ Kyo started, a little shakily, before he cut himself off, pressed a fist to his chest and curled the other in the thin blanket on his bed. He swallowed, clenched his jaw, then tried again. “It was a nightmare,” he admitted, the words coming forced and raspy, raking a hand back through his hair. “About you,” he added in a hoarse whisper. 

There were thin streams of pale, dusty moonlight filtering in through the window. And now that she could see a little better, Tohru could make out the haunted shadows under Kyo’s eyes, the almost ashen tint to his skin. Taking a few steps closer, she reached an outstretched hand towards him, aching with the need to touch him, soothe him, take his pain away. Especially if she, even in a dream, was the one causing him grief. But she froze when he pulled in a sharp breath, let it out as a strangled whimper. 

And in that instant, everything inside Tohru hurt. Even down to her bones, a crushing longing settled in to stay. It carved out a space deep in her chest, lodged itself in her heart so every beat throbbed painfully, tightly. She wanted nothing more than to stumble over and bury her face in his chest, breathe him in, and wrap him in the warmest hug. Kyo seemed like he needed one. And Tohru knew she certainly did too. But, she couldn’t. All because some curse decided that Kyo, along with the rest of the Somas, didn’t deserve to be shown love and affection and comfort like everyone else. So Tohru stood rooted in her spot, aching. And though she bit her lip and tried her best to blink them back, tears pooled in her eyes, hiding everything, even Kyo, behind a blur. A few tears slipped past, left streaks down her cheeks, and dripped off her chin. 

Then, there was a warm hand on the back of her head, gently guiding her face into the crook of Kyo’s neck. And when she pulled in a surprised breath, Tohru just melted. He smelled like summer air and soap, and it felt so much like the home Tohru never realized she’d been craving all this time. And though they had to be careful, keep their distance, Tohru nuzzled her nose deeper into the junction of his neck and shoulder, her hands coming to weakly cling at the front of his shirt. Kyo’s cheek gently fell to rest against her hair, his eyes heavy and tired. Though, he didn’t dare step any closer, didn’t dare let their chests touch. 

“You aren’t supposed to be the one crying,” Kyo grumbled quietly, but there was no blame or malice in his voice. Instead, it just came out clogged with emotion, thick and syrupy. And Tohru had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying all over again at the sound of it. 

“I can’t help it,” Tohru replied weakly, her voice muffled in Kyo’s shoulder. His skin was wet by then, and she sincerely hoped it was tears and not snot or spit. But if Kyo was bothered by it, he didn’t show it. He just started gingerly running a hand through her hair, tentative and unsure. “I don’t want you to cry. I just want you to feel better,” she sniffled, twisting her fingers a little tighter into his shirt. “But I don’t know what to do. I can’t even hug you,” Tohru hiccuped.

The hand in her hair stilled for a beat. She swore she heard Kyo’s breath hitch, felt the tension that ran through him. “You’re doing enough,” he said, heartfelt and genuine and raw. And only because it was in the early hours of the morning, where even twilight couldn’t see them, he pressed a fleeting kiss to the top of her head. “You’re doing plenty, Tohru,” he assured, voice breaking just slightly. 

Slowly, in processing, a hazy warmth suffused out through Tohru’s chest, spreading all the way down to her toes. It felt like belonging, like home, like love, and she never knew how much she needed it. Though, no matter how sweet, how well meaning, how deserved it may have been, that didn’t stop the nervous flutter in her stomach, or the rosy blush rising to her cheeks. Because Kyo was a little different from the rest. And even if she couldn’t put a label on why, it didn’t change the fact that he was the only one who could stir up those flowery, pastel feelings from beneath the surface. 

While time spun on around them, dripping slow like honey, Tohru eventually found it in herself to nod against his shoulder, to accept that her best effort was enough. And when she did, Kyo relaxed too, his tension ebbing away and giving way to tired contentment. For a long moment, she just stood and soaked up the feeling, breathing Kyo in and settling her heart. But, as much as she wished it could go on longer, it was late and they were both exhausted. So, she took a step back from Kyo, resolving to give him a little space. Though, the butterflies still swarming in her stomach had her weak at the knees, and without Kyo’s touch, grounding her, supporting her, she swayed for just a beat before her legs gave out beneath her. 

Kyo was crouched by her side in an instant, concern burning bright in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, gingerly reaching out to her. 

Her head still feeling a little warm and fuzzy, Tohru took his hand to assure him, fingers laced together. “I’m just a little overwhelmed,” she replied sheepishly, pink dusting across her cheeks. 

Relief colored Kyo’s expression, though there was still something uneasy lingering underneath. And after a few beats of contemplative silence, something in his demeanor shifted as he came to a decision. Taking her by surprise, Kyo swept Tohru up into his arms, and she was so thankful that it didn’t turn him into a cat, or she would have ended up falling back to the hard flooring. Before she could even really register what was happening, she was sitting on top of Kyo’s blanket, set gently on his futon. 

“Kyo?” Tohru questioned, stunned and a little nervous. Even if it was cliche and a little silly, she’d never been in a boy’s bed before, and even sitting on top of the blanket had her heart beating faster. 

“You can stay here for the night, if you want,” he replied quietly, a blush burning over his nose and across the tips of his ears. “I don’t want to just dump my problems on you and leave you all alone,” he clarified, gaze downcast to avoid Tohru’s eyes. Though, after a moment, he brought his gaze up to meet hers, strong and sure despite the embarrassed blush on his cheeks. “I don’t want you to be all by yourself unless you’re okay. If anything happened to you because of me...” he started, trailing off when his voice started to waver. Something darker drifted over his expression, a bit of fear slipping into his eyes, and Tohru couldn’t help but think that maybe he didn’t want to be left alone either. 

A genuine smile on her lips, soft and content, Tohru caught Kyo’s gaze. “Thank you,” she said gently, taking one of Kyo’s hands between her own. Hardly a moment later, a yawn bubbled up past her lips. At that, something in Kyo’s expression softened, anything guarded or defensive falling away. 

“We should get some sleep,” he replied gently, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. 

Nodding in agreement, Tohru reluctantly let go of Kyo’s hand and slid over to make room for him, carefully tucking her legs under the covers without disturbing them too much. After a beat of hesitation, the dusting of pink still clear across his cheeks, Kyo slipped in next to her, careful to keep an appropriate distance. It didn’t take too long for them to get settled, the rustle of blankets giving way to even, quiet breaths. 

Though, as the minutes ticked by in silence, Tohru found herself too restless to sleep, too aware of Kyo lying just a little ways behind her. There was just something, a little hollow and longing, that stuck in her chest, keeping her up. Trying not to make too much noise, she rolled over to face him, only to find him watching her, eyes warm and kind. There was worry masked in the rich hue, though, and it bled out into the rest of his expression, creasing the skin between his brows, turning his lips down at the corners ever so slightly. 

Tohru’s heart ached a little, seeing that. She’d hoped she had soothed his fears and made him feel better, but it hurt to see there was still something he was worrying over. Even right there with him, it felt like she wasn’t doing enough. Even though he assured her that wasn’t the case, Tohru couldn’t help but want to make everything okay again, and it bothered her that she couldn’t. “Kyo?” she asked gingerly. 

He met Tohru’s gaze, the thin lines of worry still written across his face. Pulling a breath in, letting it out, he tried to soften his expression. ”I don’t want you to leave.” The words were hardly more than a whisper, hoarse and desperate. And from the weight of it, Tohru got the feeling he wasn’t just talking about tonight, staying by his side to ward off nightmares. It was something bigger than that, more important, but she didn’t dare ask what. 

“I promise, I won’t,” Tohru replied, keeping her voice just as hushed and gentle. Her eyes started to water a little, moisture gathering at the corners, and she did her best to blink it away, but never let her gaze shy away from Kyo. 

Kyo managed a nod, fears easing some. Reaching out, Tohru gently swept the stray hair away from his eyes, letting her fingertips linger on his temple. Slowly, contentedly, his eyes drifted closed, and Tohru let her hand trail down to rest high on his chest instead. She felt each breath he took in the gentle rise and fall of his chest. And it was hardly any time before she noticed them slowing and evening, Kyo falling into an exhausted, hopefully dreamless sleep. And if he had another nightmare, Tohru would be there to protect him. Even if she couldn’t hug him, she could smooth his hair, kiss his forehead, and whisper reassurances until he was okay again. And, at least for now, that was enough for her. 

———————

Tohru never quite realized how nice it could be waking up next to someone in the morning. Or more precisely, cuddled up with someone. At some point overnight, Tohru had ended up lying sprawled out on her back, and Kyo was curled into her side, his head resting on her stomach and one arm draped across her hips. The mellow morning sunlight filtered in through the window, casting a warm glow across his face. It felt so peaceful and almost achingly familiar, like this was the way things were meant to be. 

And, he was purring. The realization made Tohru feel warm and fuzzy down to her toes, the contented, soothed sound rumbling deep in his chest. Even if he might hiss on occasion, particularly in his cat form, Tohru had never heard him make any sound that even resembled a purr. It was sweet; she liked it. 

Burying her fingers in his soft tresses, Tohru gently ruffled his hair. A little messy from sleep, Tohru thought it looked cute all tussled. Stirring just a little, Kyo leaned into her touch, still purring happily. Tohru had to stifle a giggle, trying not to wake him, but he just looked so sweet and harmless lying like that. It was a huge difference from when he was awake, a little aggressive and rough around the edges. She knew it came from a good place, though. 

When she shifted a little to get more comfortable, still toying with Kyo’s hair, Tohru pulled in a deep breath and held it for a beat. Too tired and frazzled last night, she hadn’t even noticed it, but now she realized just how much everything smelled like Kyo. The scent was so full of sunshine and outdoors and boy, and it clung to everything, from the pillow to the blankets to the sleeping Kyo himself. And as embarrassing as it was, Tohru just wanted to bury her head in the bedding and breathe it all in. Every breath of it made her head feel warm and fuzzy. 

She didn’t get the chance, though, when Kyo stirred and stretched, cracking open an eye. And it only took another beat for him to hurriedly separate himself from Tohru, sliding over as far as the futon would allow. 

“Good morning,” Tohru giggled, watching Kyo clutch at his heart, a blush burning all the way down his neck. Though, after a few moments, he settled back down and returned her greeting, albeit a little grumpily. 

They didn’t have school that morning, luckily, and neither was in a hurry to get up for the day. Normally, Tohru was a bit of an early riser, wanting to get up with plenty of time to prepare breakfast, but there was something so nice about sleeping in from time to time. And lounging around with Kyo didn’t seem so bad. 

“You know, you were purring in your sleep,” Tohru said quietly, her fingers itching with the urge to reach back out and card through his hair again. Some longing part of her, too, wanted to feel that gentle rumble in his chest again. It was comforting. 

As soon as the words left her lips, Kyo went bright red. He sheepishly tucked his head beneath the covers up to his eyes, trying to hide the blush. 

“Kyo?” Tohru asked, tilting her head to one side, confused by the reaction. She thought it was sweet, and it really set her heart at ease to know he was happy and not dreaming of anything bad. 

“I don’t normally do that,” Kyo admitted, embarrassed, the words muffled through the blanket. If possible, he seemed like he was blushing an even deeper red. “Only when-“ 

Cut off by the rattle of his door sliding open, Kyo froze where he was, absolute dread coming over his face. 

“Hey, have you seen Tohru yet today...” Yuki asked from the door, trailing off as soon as he spotted the girl he was looking for curled up on the opposite side of Kyo’s futon. And in that instant, rage boiled beneath his calm exterior, white hot. 

Before Tohru could blink, Yuki was across the room, hauling Kyo up by the collar and yanking him away from her. He had Kyo pinned to the wall in no time, glaring daggers at him. Though, Tohru couldn’t tell if it was out of shock or guilt or something else, but Kyo didn’t even try to fight back. He just coughed and gasped a little, Yuki’s knuckles digging hard into his throat. 

“What did you do to her?” Yuki seethed, shadow playing across his face. 

A little horrified, Tohru scrambled to her feet and hurried to Yuki’s side. Though she doubted he would ever seriously hurt Kyo, her pulse still jumped, heart lodged in her throat. “He didn’t do anything to me, I promise,” Tohru insisted, a little frantic. 

Even her assurances didn’t seemed to do much to quell his anger, though he did spare a sideways glance at her, the anger and hate melting to concern. “Are you sure?” he asked worriedly, brows knitted together. 

Tohru nodded emphatically. “Of course! I came over here all on my own, because I wanted to, and we just fell asleep. That’s all,” Tohru explained. She only hoped it would be enough to convince Yuki, because her nerves were a mess, watching the color drain out of Kyo’s face. 

Thankfully, that seemed to cool his head some, and he let Kyo go with a huff. Bent over with his hands on his knees, Kyo coughed and tried to get some air back in his lungs, angry red marks already clear on his throat. “What the hell?” he choked out as soon as he had the breath to. “Do you seriously think I’d lay a finger on her if she didn’t want me to?” The question hung in the air, and as soon as the words were out, everyone stilled at the implications of it. 

The butterflies were back swarming in Tohru’s stomach again, and a blush dusted across her cheeks. Questions whirled around her mind at a dizzying speed. What if she did want him to, then what would he do? Did she want him to? Did she want him? What was she even thinking? 

Though, even through the whirlwind of her own emotions, she caught the singular expression on Yuki’s face. Defeat. 

“Ah, is that so?” he said quietly, everything about him still and solemn. “Then I guess you’re welcome to do what you please,” he added. There was something just a little biting buried in the words, behind the calm. His jaw clicked shut and he didn’t say another word. 

Then, nearly as quickly as he had came, Yuki was gone, careful to shut the door behind him. It was just her and Kyo and the lingering silence left behind. He straightened up a little, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“I feel like I need to apologize to him,” Tohru finally said, breaking the quiet. She wasn’t even quite sure why, as she didn’t think she’d done anything to upset Yuki, but she still felt bad. 

“Don’t,” Kyo replied firmly, affectionately ruffling her hair, “you were fine.” Then, something more serious worked into his expression. “Let me handle the rat,” he said with likely unearned confidence. But it still made Tohru smile, and her heart felt a little lighter. 

“I’ll leave it to you,” she replied, the hint of a laugh in her voice. 

Kyo just grinned back, eyes crinkling around the corners. “Good.” And the soft sunlight, filtering in through the window, caught all around him, like a halo of light. Tohru really thought that happiness suited him, just then. His was a smile that she wanted to protect, with all her heart.


End file.
